Before she could react, they were free and falling over the swollen slopes of her breasts; his hand slipped inside, pulling the material free from her brassiere, and she stiffened, filled with both foreboding and excitement. She tried to pull his hand away, but her own fingers moved only as far as Eddie's, and then fell back again, and she could only stare with glassy, drug-dimmed eyes at the movie and submit, thankful that in the darkness the boy's manipulations would not be seen by her girlfriend, Nancy, or Jason.

The woman on the screen, her mouth open wide in ecstasy, worked one finger… then two into the glistening moistness of her cunt hole, and at the same time stroked the throbbing bud of her clitoris with her other hand, her face tightening as she masturbated in open capitulation with her craving desires, her alabaster skin wet and shining with perspiration, her dark brown pubic hair matted to her pink fleshy vaginal lips as she strove for orgasm. Her driving fingers sunk deep up into her widely stretched opening, thrusting harder and harder, but they were not enough. Tamera could see the woman's face clenching with frustration and purpose, eyes tight, teeth gritted, every sinew and muscle in her body spasming in her longing for release…

Tamera fuzzily tried to convince herself that she still had control of herself in this situation, and that somehow she'd be able to stop the liquor and marijuana in her from overcoming her natural prudence. But her own face and body shone in a luster of sexual sweat, a trickle of which ran down between her breasts that her date was kneading and squeezing. She knew that she had to demand to go home, to shut off the movie at least, that she'd gone too far in allowing the boy to fondle her breasts – for now he was snaking his fingers up inside her thin brassiere, and there was nothing in the way of his probing fingers except whatever mental resistance she could muster.